


but if you close your eyes (does it almost feel like nothing's changed at all?)

by august_sunshine



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Comfort, Gen, I want the Kageyamas to be Happy, Siblings, family love, kageyama miwa: my muse, my first fic!, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:02:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26692651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/august_sunshine/pseuds/august_sunshine
Summary: One of his earliest memories or, rather, the earliest one he had was of Miwa. Doing the mental math, she might have been twelve, and he must have been about four. In his four-year-old understanding of the world, Miwa was like his guardian spirit. She always held his hand and always smiled down at him with her blunt bangs and hair tied into perfect pigtails. To him, Miwa was otherworldly. Whenever she was with him, Tobio knew he was safe, and the promise of volleyball was there.orOver the weekend, Kageyama Tobio reflects on his relationship with Miwa through ramen, rewatching Karasuno's match against Shiratorizawa, and an impromptu volleyball match.
Relationships: Kageyama Miwa & Kageyama Tobio, implied Kageyama Tobio/Kunimi Akira, implied kunikage - Relationship, kageyama: has a crush
Comments: 7
Kudos: 136





	but if you close your eyes (does it almost feel like nothing's changed at all?)

**Author's Note:**

> hello, thank you so much for clicking on this! the introduction of kageyama miwa made me lose my mind. here's 7k dedicated to the kageyama siblings 
> 
> p.s. this is my first fic! srry if there are any errors 

Tobio wouldn’t say that he was necessarily afraid of his older sister. That would imply that Miwa was scary or even capable of  _ being _ scary. The truth is, she really wasn’t. 

  


Yeah, sure, he could argue that maybe she was a  _ little _ bit scary. Miwa does constantly hold sharp blades in her hands and knows exactly how to handle harsh chemicals. Although, that’s just her job as a hairdresser and a make-up artist for a beauty magazine in Tokyo. 

  


If Tobio really had to think about moments where his sister was scary or had scared him, nothing came to mind. Instead, if he concentrated on his early childhood memories, they always involved smiling with Miwa, one way or another. 

  


From visiting remote shrines with their father, during the middle of spring, and Miwa holding his hand as they clumsily climbed the never-ending stairs. 

  


(“Why does papa like visiting old things, nee-san?”

  


“Because they are beautiful, and papa likes to pray! Also, they’re not old; they are ancient. That means super, super old!”)

  


Annual road trips to the actual countryside in the Miyagi prefecture to greet their mother’s traditional family. Miwa always would rub sunscreen on his face or any exposed skin she could find. 

  


(“The sun is extra strong here! Mama won’t let us play volleyball if you get burnt! We just need to greet everyone and then we can play. We’ll practice receives today because yours still need lots of work.”)

  


Going on daily runs with Kazuyo-san in the early mornings on weekends. Miwa would help him stretch to avoid the soreness that sprinting up the hill by their home brought. 

  


(“Try to keep up! Maybe you’ll be the fastest boy in your class!”)

  


One of his earliest memories or, rather,  _ the _ earliest one he had was of Miwa. Doing the mental math, she might have been twelve, and he must have been about four. In his four-year-old understanding of the world, Miwa was like his guardian spirit. She  _ always  _ held his hand and  _ always _ smiled down at him with her blunt bangs and hair tied into perfect pigtails. To him, Miwa was otherworldly. Whenever she was with him, Tobio knew he was safe, and the promise of volleyball was there.

  


Miwa had a tight grip on his small hand in his faded memory and carried a Mikasa volleyball in her other one. She led him down the gymnasium, where Kazuyo-san coached and began tossing the shiny Mikasa ball to him. 

  


He didn’t know how Miwa used to have fun playing with him and his clumsy form; yet, she always managed to do so with a toothy grin. It would start like this: Miwa would mimic a form, he would try his best to copy it, and she would fix what she could. This went on until Kazuyo-san concluded practice and they would head towards the gymnasium exit together. Before his grandfather really began coaching him, his older sister was his first coach.

  


Tobio often thought that Miwa was sort of the complete opposite of him. She always seems to know what to say and how to say it during the right times. Tobio knew he struggled with saying things nicely. His delivery was off, but he was trying. Asahi, Tanaka, and Hinata were testaments to that. So, if he got called rude, scary, and, overall, a disaster in human interactions - his sister had to be the antithesis. Miwa is everything he isn’t and more. 

  


Still, Tobio didn’t know why he felt so afraid of her and her reaction to what he had to say. It wasn’t even that serious, nothing life-threatening.  _ Oh _ , Tobio thought,  _ maybe Yamaguchi and Yachi are influencing me more than I thought _ . It would make sense why he felt so nervous. He took a deep breath and willed himself to relax. 

  


Tobio was at the closest train station to his house to greet Miwa. His sister usually tried to visit every other weekend if her schedule allowed it. Her job at a beauty magazine required her to be on-call for any photoshoots or anything else that might come up. Tobio knew that working at the magazine made her happy, though. Miwa gets to visit other cities in Japan or even foreign countries. When she went to Los Angeles, she got him his favorite Hollywood hat. It was a staple in his espionage wardrobe. 

  


The intercom interrupted his musings with the announcement that the train from Tokyo was arriving at the station. Tobio hopes that Miwa was in a good mood. He could never really predict her mood once her train arrived. She could complain about weird men who would sit next to her. If that happened, they always waited until the train station cleared out to avoid being followed by them. Miwa taught him that some men were relentless and perverts. 

  


(“You have to promise me if a girl even looks a little afraid on a train, you’ll help her. Pretend you’re lost and interrupt whatever is going on.”

  


“People tell me I look scary though. Wouldn’t I make it worse?”

  


“You’ll help because you’ll scare the creeps away! A real knight in shining armor. Except, you’re a pretty high school boy in his cute black gakuran uniform. Also, how scary are you? You just pout and might have a resting bitch face.”

  


“My teammates or other rival teams think I’m scary.”

  


“Huh. Do they know you sleep with a Vabo-chan plushie?”

  


“No! Because I don’t!”

  


“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. I won’t tell everyone that Karasuno’s star setter sleeps with a plushie. It is now considered an official Kageyama family secret. When I get interviewed about you, I will never ever, ever, ever, ever mention it.”)

  


Other times, she would come out of the train car pressing her business card into someone’s hand. 

  


(“Anyone can be a future customer, little brother. I’ll teach you my tricks when you’re older.”) 

  


She always winked. Tobio didn’t want to think more of what his sister did with the people she gave her card out to. 

  


He spotted her coming out of the train car and waited until she looked up from her phone to wave. Miwa normally messaged her apartment roommate that she arrived safely in Sendai. 

  


(“It’s just something girls have to do for one another, Tobio. I wait for her message when she visits her family in the Iwate prefecture.”)

  


Tobio takes a moment to look at his sister. Miwa always seems like she is ready to star in a magazine shoot instead of working with the models. Now that she had lived in Tokyo for quite some time, her style consisted of clothes and accessories he would see in the magazines that Miwa would leave on the kitchen counter for their mama to read. Tobio couldn’t help but flip through them when he was bored. Mama always sticky-noted the pages Miwa worked on. Seeing in the bottom corners,  _ styled by Kageyama Miwa, _ made him happy. Their mother would even cut the pages out with her special craft scissors and organized them into a scrapbook. 

  


Today, Miwa had on an oversized and fluffy light blue turtleneck, leather pants, paired with fancy looking shoes. She had her black leather duffle in one hand and a white purse that crossed diagonally against her torso.

  


He sort of wishes he had a camera to capture this moment. He could already imagine the headline on a magazine page: 

  


_ 5 Simple Tips to Travel in Style by Miwa Kageyama  _

  1. Have a soft turtleneck. 
  2. Wear cool pants. 
  3. Pair it all with fancy but comfortable shoes. 
  4. Accessorize. 
  5. A small but perfectly sized handbag for all your needs. 



  
  


Tobio stood in the same spot he usually did when he picked Miwa up, just left of the convenience machine, the milk carton he bought was already at the bottom of the recycling bin, and close to the exit. Still, he felt the need to lift his hand and wave her over when she looked up, presumably, done messaging her roommate. She grinned at him and stashed her phone in her purse. 

  


His sister’s smile implied no creeps and she continued power walking towards him. Steps before coming face to face to him, Miwa always asked him a question with a dumb grin on her face:

  


“How’s the cutest little baby brother in the world?” 

  


This was an embarrassing routine. He was 16. He wasn’t a baby. He was even taller than her. Miwa asked him this every time they didn’t see each other for more than 8 hours since he could begin speaking in complete sentences. She used to pinch his cheeks, but she doesn’t do that in public anymore. He replied - ignoring her would make it even worse; he didn’t even bother scowling anymore. Miwa was comforting but annoying, too. 

  


“I’m hungry.”

  


“You only ever pick me up so we can eat before going home! I see right through you. Can’t believe I’m going to have to tell all my friends that my little brother ain’t the sweetheart he looks to be.” 

  


He scowled then. Whenever he accidentally walked in on a FaceTime call, Miwa’s friends cooed over him like he was a baby. Higurashi-san always tried to tell him that if he needed photos taken for volleyball, he would gladly make the visit to Sendai with Miwa. Yachi had it handled, thankfully. He could distract and handle Miwa, sometimes. Miwa and Higurashi-san would just be too much. 

  


“You’re in luck, though! I’m in the mood for ramen. I’m jealous of mama and papa heading to Nagoya for their conference. That city has the best ramen.” 

  


They exited the train station and Miwa passed him her leather duffle without a word. He’s gotten used to carrying the heavy bag for her. 

  


( _ “I’m _ helping raise a gentleman.”

  


“You just overpack.”

  


“I don’t think that was very chivalrous of you, Toto-chan.”

  


“Your duffle is always heavy, though. You’re an over-packer.”

  


“All the more reason you need to carry it for me.”)

  


It was a short walk to the ramen place that Miwa liked. Just a few minutes. He could tell her what he needed to say.  _ Just get it out already _ .  _ Break your sister’s heart and then comfort her with ramen.  _

  


Miwa wrapped her left arm around his bicep and began chattering about her train ride, no creepy men, just a cute puppy. 

  


“Do you want a puppy? I could convince papa. You would look so cute walking a dog!”

  


He hesitated to answer. He liked dogs, but they always seemed scared of him. Kunimi’s Shiba was the only dog who seemed to like him. He hoped that Yuto was healthy. Kunimi, too. 

  


“We don’t really need one.”

  


Miwa nodded and kept talking about how no one  _ needs  _ a dog, but they were cute. She began talking about her latest ventures working at the magazine. Mean photographers, lovely models, and last-minute decisions that are “going to be spectacular, Tobio.”

  


A few minutes later, the ramen shop appeared on their left, and it was bustling with people. They made their way inside and Tobio went to find a spare table for them. Miwa always ordered and paid. 

  


Shortly, she sat down opposite of him and smiled. He couldn’t help but return it. Miwa might embarrass him in front of the crowd from Tokyo to Sendai train at 6:37 pm on a Friday, but she spared him from ordering at a busy ramen shop. 

  


The waitress brought them their ramen and Miwa handed him her phone. He pouted. With a sigh, Tobio opened the camera app, angled the camera to include him, Miwa, and the ramen.

  


“Smile, Tobio~” 

  


Miwa made a peace sign and he snapped the photo. She took back her phone and sent it to their parents. Mama replied immediately with a cute emoji and papa responded a little later with a “yum yum!” 

  


They said their thanks and began eating their ramen. Dinner was usually a quiet affair in the Kageyama household. He and Miwa could never seem to break that tradition whenever they ate somewhere else together.

  


Hungry from practice ending less than 30 minutes ago, Tobio finished first and waited for Miwa.

  


“You dyed your hair again. It’s going to fall out soon.” 

  


Miwa rolled her eyes at him. 

  


“You sound like mama.” 

  


She really hadn’t dyed her hair too often, but Tobio remembers when she first experimented with chemicals in their shared bathroom. A 15-year-old Miwa asked him if she could “paint his hair.” He said yes, assuming as a 7-year-old, it would be washable. His older sister actually bleached the front portion of his bangs and she bleached chunky parts of her hair. 

  


While he was left with a platinum blonde, Miwa’s hair turned into an ugly sand color. She tried fixing it with a pink dye, but it didn’t work. The result was a weird off-shade of orange. Not the pale pink she was intending. The outcome left her with tears in her eyes and caused her to let out a shrill scream. 

  


Papa stormed into the bathroom, he saw Miwa with her terrible dye job, and then he saw Tobio sitting on the sink counter, staring transfixed at his bangs. He nodded, came back with hats, and took them to the closest salon.

  


The family Suzuki had his father in the driver’s seat, Kazuyo-san, in the front passenger seat, trying to comfort Miwa, who was still crying, and Tobio sat next to her in the backseat. Three generations of Kageyama men stormed into a salon while Miwa tried to explain through tears to the hairdresser what her “vision” was.

  


Miwa came out with her hair dyed with a pretty dark brown color (“A balayage, Tobio. I think it’s French.”) and an interest in hairdressing. He got his bangs dyed black. They never told mama why Miwa got her hair done. The only evidence was the bright pink dye that was forever stained on the bathroom counter.

  


Now, Miwa had grown out of her bangs and they were more like long pieces that framed her face. There were large sections in the front dyed to be a bright blonde. Her hair still rested at her waist. She looked like a doll. He told her. 

  


Miwa beamed at him. “That’s a good compliment, Tobio.” She then smirked, “have you been using that on all the pretty boys that catch your eyes?”

  


He told her about Kunimi Akira from Class 1-A and the volleyball club  _ once _ . Tobio couldn’t help but scowl. Miwa cackled in response. 

  


“You could be a cute blonde, too. I had the right vision when I was 16. The application just, you know, really wasn’t there.”

  


He snorted. 

  


“I just don’t want to use gross shampoo.” 

  


“I would always get you the good stuff. No sulfates. It can even smell like peaches and mangoes.”

  


“There’s already enough box blonde setters in Japan. One is from Hyogo. Atsumu-san would think I’m copying him.”

  


“Ah, from youth camp, right? Well, he wouldn’t have his hair dyed by me. So, you’re winning there. I’m a professional.  _ Wait _ , did you say box-blonde? I’ve totally made you into a total hair-snob.”

  


He didn’t bother answering her back. 

  


Soon, they left the ramen shop and headed towards home. It was a pleasant walk with plenty of opportunities to tell Miwa, but he just couldn’t seem to get the words out. Before he even realized, Miwa was opening the black gate to their home and walking up the stone pathway to their front door. She opened the door and they began their routine. 

  


The routine goes like this: they climb the creaky stairs together, Tobio passes the heavy duffle back to Miwa, Miwa takes it from him and, in her room, changes into her fancy comfy clothes, (“It’s called athleisure wear.”), Tobio changes into his pajamas, and they meet downstairs to sit on the couch to watch the current K-drama that Miwa insists he see. 

  


(“It’s for the culture, Tobio. You can’t not know about this. As your older sister, this is actually in my job description. At the hospital, mom and dad got your birth certificate. I got an official document from the Japanese government issued to all older sisters. Do you know what it said? It said and I quote, ’As an older sister, you need to make sure Kageyama Tobio is up to date with trends.’”

  


“That’s literally not how it works.”

  


Miwa gasped dramatically and held her hand to mouth, looking scandalized. 

  


“You think I would lie to you?”

  


“....”

  


“K-Dramas are great, c’mon, just wait and see!”)

  


They really weren’t all that great. He tried to argue this countless times, but he was also, sort of, invested in their current show to not wonder what happens. 

  


He heard Miwa make her way down the stairs and head to the kitchen. Another routine. She tried a new tea and warmed up milk for him in a mug. 

  


This made him antsy. How was he supposed to break their routine tomorrow? Tomorrow was always: morning runs together, Miwa sometimes slept in, but if she didn’t, then running together, shower, Miwa would take him to a cafe that she saw reviews of, he would take a photo of her for her Instagram ( _ meowmiwachan _ ), they would send another selfie to their parents, and they just spent their whole day together. It was nice. Tobio would be lying if he said he didn’t look forward to it. 

  


Unfortunately, the Neighborhood Volleyball team and Karasuno had a match that Coach Ukai scheduled. The Spring-High Tournament meant teams were strong. They needed to be introduced to new techniques and more opponents. The win against Shiratorizawa pushed them all to continue pursuing being the best versions of themselves. Hinata and Tsukkishima had their Miyagi prefecture training camp. He had the Youth Camp. Everyone on the team had practice. They just needed a little bit more time to mesh together. 

  


The match just happened to be tomorrow, the day where he and Miwa would spend the most time together. This was a problem. 

  


Miwa sat down next to him on the couch and passed him the warm mug of milk. 

  


“What tea are you trying?”

  


“Just jasmine. Way better than warm milk.” She made a show of gulping out of the clear mug. 

  


“You should try milk. You’ll grow more.” He took a gulp and made a show of enjoying it. 

  


“Milk causes acne. We’ve discussed this. I even made you watch a documentary.” 

  


“I have clear skin.” Here, Miwa rolled her eyes at him. 

  


“I bring you products from South Korea or whenever I work with a skincare company and their models. This does not count. Also, the Kageyama genes are like crazy strong in you. Kazuyo-san never looked his age. Papa doesn’t even have wrinkles even though he is an accountant.” 

  


“What does being an accountant have to do with that?”

  


“You’re saying you wouldn’t constantly frown if you had to look at numbers all day?”

  


_ Huh. _

  


Miwa always complained that she had gotten more of their mom’s genes. He didn’t really get it. He and Miwa looked alike. Sure, their height did drastically differ. Papa was 179 cm. Mama was, maybe, 164 cm, he couldn’t tell, sometimes, it felt like she was getting smaller or maybe, he was the one growing more though Miwa was around 175 cm. 

  


Miwa did psych him out about his height when he was younger; so, he always made sure to drink milk. Kazuyo-san and his father supported his milk agenda. Height wasn’t all that necessary for volleyball, Hinata and Hoshiumi were a testament to that, but it was still an advantage. 

  


“Now,” Miwa took another obnoxious gulp, “stop milk-shaming me and turn on our K-Drama. I’ve been thinking about what Kyungmin is going to do since the train ride. My bet, he proposed to Chaewon in the rain.” 

  


Right. He still needed to tell her. He took a deep breath and quickly said, “Okay. Also, we can’t hang out tomorrow. Karasuno has a practice match and it’s important.” He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. At least that’s what he tried to say. It might have actually come out like: okaycan’ttrowpracticematch. 

  


The TV turned on with a flicker. Miwa coughed a few times. Tobio was convinced that he was seeing his sister choke to death.  _ She is going to die because of me. _ He quickly began patting her back, she took a deep breath and started laughing. 

  


“Tobio-chan. What? Are you asking me to watch a match with you? All I heard was ’okay,’ and ’match.’”

  


“Karasuno has a match tomorrow.” 

  


“Oh, so you’re not asking me to watch a match with you? Why does your team have a match on a Saturday, though? I thought matches were done until the Spring-High tourney.”

  


“I mean, I would rather watch a match right now. Chaewon deserves someone who isn’t a disaster. He fails to commit.”

  


“Fair. He’s a time-traveler, though.” Miwa grinned and raised an eyebrow at him. “So, you want to watch a match, and you have a match tomorrow?”

  


He nodded.  _ Why did she make it sound so simple? _ He’s been panicking about this since Coach Ukai announced it. 

  


Miwa looked at him with her head tilted to the side for a moment. Tobio felt himself start to squirm.  _ She’s upset _ .  _ She’s sad because you have to play a match and leave her alone in this house and - _

  


“Okay, so let’s watch a match then. We can see what Chaewon does tomorrow after the match.” 

  


Tobio relaxed. _ So, she’s not upset. That’s good. _ He can work with that. He began to move towards where he had the London 2012 Olympic games recordings. 

  


“No, no, I get to pick.”

  


This was going well. Miwa might pick London or Barcelona because of the fashion industry.  _ She was okay with this _ .  _ Great. This is good. _

  


“So, where in the archives do you have your Nationals qualifier match?” 

  


_ What?  _

  


“You heard me.” 

  


_ Oh _ , he said that out loud. Tobio couldn’t help but ask, “Why do you want to watch Karasuno?”

  


Miwa smiled and reached over and grasped his cheek with her left hand. Moments like these, he thinks he doesn’t really know his sister. Why would she be holding his cheek like she would when they were younger?

  


This 24-year-old with dyed blonde, waist-long hair, who he shares features with like their pouty mouths, who has their grandmother’s eyes from what Kazuyo-san used to say, who may have more of the physical Soto-genes but who definitely has the Kageyama genes of being friendly and outgoing and understanding, that he just  _ doesn’t _ , and who looks at him and says softly, “You don’t talk about volleyball with me.” She strokes his cheek like she would a cat on the street. Gently, as if she doesn’t want him to be scared of her. 

  


“I do? I text you when we win.”

  


“No. You don’t. You told me about your middle school teammates - a pretty boy named Kunimi Akira, his grey eyes, and how he was a nice math tutor. You tell me about your cool senpais at Karasuno. The study group you have now. That’s not volleyball, though.”

  


“You quit though. I don’t want to make you talk about something you don’t want to.”

  


Her blue eyes widened as if she was expecting anything but that. She pauses for a moment, pats his cheek, pulls back her hand, and begins instead, twirling her blonde strands. 

  


“I quit because the Shiratorizawa club had a dumb rule about hair. That was more than five years ago, though. I know volleyball means more than you can ever begin to describe it. I can’t be here all the time because Tokyo, work, and I can’t ever be there like, electronically. After all, they don’t ever live-stream high school matches.” 

  


He furrows his brows. He didn’t think Miwa would try to show up. She’s busy—magazine meetings, photoshoots, and everything that entails working in the beauty industry. 

  


She continues. “So, yeah, maybe our commitment differs, but I still love volleyball. Now, I’d like to see the game that you, as a first-string setter, led to victory.”

  


He nods his head, it’s the only thing he can do. 

  


“It’s in my room, I’ll be right back.”

  


“Okay. Bring me my blanket and bring your journal. Let’s talk strategy!”

  


He goes up the creaky stairs and heads into his room. The DVD is on his desk, along with his journal. His Vabo-chan plushie lays on his bed. He grabs the items he came here for and goes into Miwa’s room. He sees her duffle on her desk. While his bare, Miwa has enough clutter for the two of them. On the desk is a framed picture of the two of them. Tobio has seen this picture before, it’s never been moved from Miwa’s room. It’s sort of a classic shot. His papa described it as “a true Kodak moment.” 

  


Miwa is around 13-years-old and is wearing a white lace dress with bright gold shoes. She is holding his hand and her other hand is making a peace sign. He’s about 5-years-old wearing some ridiculous outfit mama dressed him in that matches Miwa, and he’s clinging onto her. His Vabo-chan plushie in his fist. The trees flutter in the background. It does sort of look like a promotional photo used to convince foreigners to visit Sendai. 

  


Tobio inhales and exhales and he repeats this twice. The smiley little girl will always be there for him. She might have changed from a girl to a young adult - but she was still Miwa. She would never get mad at him for playing a volleyball match while she visited. Tobio scowls and thinks  _ I’m dumb, this is Miwa.  _

  


With a shaky exhale, he grabs her black blanket with yellow stars on it from her bed and heads down the stairs. The creaks notifying Miwa he was back.

  


“You know I feel like dad never bothered to fix the stairs in case I ever tried to sneak out. Does he think you’ll sneak out to play volleyball?”

  


“Mama says the creak has become part of the house. Why didn’t you ever end up dorming at Shiratorizawa?”

  


Miwa has the DVD player ready and holds out her hand for the DVD. He passes it and takes a seat on the couch. Miwa inserts the DVD and moves back to the couch. 

  


She wraps the blanket around the both of them, looks at him, and says, “I didn’t dorm because I would miss you too much, Toto-chan.” He smiles.  _ This is Miwa.  _

  


They watch the match twice. 

  


The first watch consists of Miwa making sure she knows everyone’s name. She makes comments about the Shiratorizawa team and their haircuts. 

  


“I’m a proud Shiratorizawa alumna, don’t get me wrong, but Karasuno has the cuter team. Everyone is so pretty! Straight out of a manga.”

  


“Are you done?”

  


“Don’t worry, Tobio! I still think you’re the cutest boy there. That libero, though. Definitely the coolest. I love his bangs! Ask him for styling advice since you won’t listen to me.”

  


“Noya-san is cool. We call him our guardian deity.”

  


“Your team is so cute! Are you the guardian setter?”

  


“My team calls me King.” He waits for the disapproving look. He never told Miwa about middle school, and he still doesn’t want to. 

  


“Dramatic! I like it.”

  


During the second watch, Miwa analyzes their defense against Ushijima’s spikes and Tendou’s blocks. He takes notes because his sister’s game sense is  _ really good _ . More than he expected or knew she was capable of. It makes sense, Kazuyo-san always made him analyze plays, he must have done the same with Miwa. 

  


By the time they finished, it was late, and Tobio couldn’t help but let out a loud yawn. 

  


“C’mon Tobiooo, let’s call it a night.”

  


He stood up, careful not to yank the blanket from Miwa, and held his hand out to her. 

  


“So, uh, you’re not mad, right?”

  


Miwa smiled up at him. Her eyes were a little red from watching the TV for too long and her hair was messy from the blanket rubbing against it. 

  


“I’ll never be mad at you for playing volleyball, Tobio. I’ll even walk you to practice. I might even jog around campus. That way, we can both enjoy the meal afterward. There’s nothing like a post-workout meal.” 

  


“Can we get curry?”

  


“Only if you get a service ace.”

  


“Deal.” He could work with that. His serves have gotten better since Youth Camp.

  


She grabs his hand and pulls herself up from the couch. Miwa reaches up and pats his cheeks.

  


“Night, night, Tobio.”

  


“G’night, nee-san.”

  


They both walked up the creaky stairs and entered their respective rooms. 

  


✰-✰-✰-✰-✰-✰-✰

  


Coach Ukai scheduled the match for 11 in the morning. Tobio made sure to schedule an alarm at 9, so he could shower, get dressed, and make breakfast. Ideally, he would be out of the house by 10:30 to be at Karasuno by 10:45. Then, he would race against Hinata, win, get changed, and be in the gym by 10:50

  


All this mental math and Tobio failed to calculate Miwa into this. 

  


When he makes his way to the bathroom, he hears the sound of Miwa blow-drying her hair, he raises his hand to knock, but with some weird sixth sense, she must have. She turned off the hairdryer, opened the door, and stepped out in her fluffy bathrobe. 

  


“Good morning! There should still be hot water! Make breakfast, please! I still need to get ready.”

  


He sighed. Miwa was the better cook, but at least she left her blow dryer. Tobio liked the way his hair dried when he used it. He undressed, stepped in, and turned on the water. Expecting a rush of cold water, he was surprised to have hot water splash him.  _ Ah, it really was the small things in life. _

  


After his shower, he used Miwa’s fancy hairdryer and changed into his clothes for the day. Black shorts, a white t-shirt, and a dark green crew neck that Miwa brought him two visits ago. It was some brand from the States. He thought it said Stussy, but he wasn’t sure because the English alphabet was strange.

  


Tobio made his way down the stairs and headed towards the kitchen. Two plates, two bowls, and two cups. He grabbed a pan from the cupboard and got to work. 

  


His sister appeared a little while later with her hair down and wearing her workout clothes. 

  


She made herself green tea and served him his milk. He proceeded to serve them their breakfast, they said their thanks and ate. Once they both finished, Miwa grabbed the plates and set them in the sink. 

  


He went to grab his bag from the door and slipped on his shoes. Miwa went upstairs and came down with a white jean jacket, her white purse, and her white trimmed sunglasses perched on her face. He knew girls always carried essentials in their bags, but what could Miwa possibly need for her jog?

  


“Why do you need your purse?”

  


“It’s holding our curry funds and my essentials.”

  


“Aren’t you jogging?”

  


“I’m going to stuff this in your locker, and then, you know, run.”

  


Tobio nodded,  _ ah, that makes sense _ .

  


He tied his shoes and Miwa followed with her old volleyball trainers. She fixed his hair a little, glanced down at him, zeroed in on his volleyball bag, and smiled, “So, no Vabo-chan keychain?” 

  


_ She’s annoying. She’s so annoying. How is she so annoying? _ Kunimi had given him one and the next time he saw his sister, he had excitedly told her. Tobio had it safely tucked away at his desk (there was absolutely no chance of losing it). Miwa never seemed to forget anything. 

  


He ignored her and purposefully made long strides toward the train stop. He heard her exasperated sighs, but he only slowed down as they got closer to the station. Once the train car arrived, he let Miwa take the only open seat. She whispered, “what a gentleman.” He scowled.  _ So annoying.  _

  


The stop closest to Karasuno soon came, he thought about just running off without Miwa, but the promise of curry was still there. He motioned when their stop arrived and they walked their way down to where Karasuno was nestled. 

  


“Mm, this is  _ way _ different from Shiratorizawa. It’s cozy. Doesn’t give off the same pretentious vibes.”

  


“Yeah, the gym is just to the left of campus. You could -”

  


Whatever he was going to say was cut off by Hinata yelling, “YAMAYAMA-KUN, RACE YOU TO THE CLUBROOM,” running past him. 

  


He set off. He and Hinata were 61-63. Tobio needed to widen the gap. 

  


He sped through the campus and saw Hinata heading towards the steps of the club room. He took three steps at a time. Fortunately, he was able to lunge towards the club door, the official spot where they agreed to mark as the finish line. Hinata beat him by just a second.

  


“62-63.”

  


He scowled. 

  


They were leaning against the door, panting from the race when suddenly the door opened, and they flopped onto the floor. 

  


“Good morning!” Suga smiled down at them with his hands on his hips. “Are you both ready to play against the Neighborhood Association?”

  


“I’m ready to win.”

  


Daichi laughed in the background. 

  


“We love to hear it, Kageyama. Both of you hurry up. We need to set up the net and stretch. Be sure to grab your practice jerseys from Yachi.”

  


They both nodded. 

  


The distant thought that Miwa might have gotten lost lingered, but she would be fine. The streets of Tokyo were a lot more confusing than Karauno’s campus.

  


He and Hinata changed into their volleyball attire and agreed to race to the gym doors. He didn’t expect to find a starry-eyed Noya and Tanaka by the gym entrance once he won the race.

  


“Hinata, Kageyama,” Tanaka started, “did,” he took a deep breath and held his right hand on his chest, he faintly wondered if Tanaka was going to faint, “did you know Kiyoko has a sister?”

  


He shakes his head.  _ Huh, who would’ve thought?  _ Embarrassingly _ ,  _ he did call Kiyoko nee-san once, but she just brushed it off. She probably didn’t make a big deal because she got called that by her own sister. 

  


Hinata exclaims by his side, “GAH! Maybe you can ask her for her blessing in pursuing Kiyoko, Tanaka! She could put in a good word!”

  


Tanaka looks like he might hug Hinata. He does. 

  


“That’s a great idea, Hinata! I already helped her find the gym; obviously, I’m in her good graces now. All I need to do is show her how much I respect, value, and treasure Kiyoko.”

  


Noya jumps on Tobio’s back and says, “We are officially Tanaka’s helpers for this mission. Do you, Kageyama Tobio, agree to help on Tanaka’s quest?”

  


_ Uh. _

  


His silence is taken as a yes. 

  


Hinata readily agrees by his side. 

  


“If we win, she might be impressed?” It’s the only thing he can offer to do. 

  


Tanaka readily agrees. “Yes, exactly!”

  


“C’mon, I’ll introduce her. She looked lost and asked me where the volleyball gym was, and I told her I’d guide her to Kiyoko-san. She didn’t tell me her name or anything, but the resemblance is totally there. That family is so beautiful. She’s a little taller, but you’ll see what I mean. Of course, you know, I still only have eyes for Kiyoko.”

  


They step into the gym, and he sees Miwa,  _ his  _ sister, talking to Kiyoko, Yachi, and Coach Takeda. They are all bowing, and Miwa has her hand to mouth, obviously embarrassed. Her sunglasses are now perched on her head. 

  


Tobio does the only thing he can offer while looking at this scene. Which is speak his unfiltered, dumb mind. 

  


“Nee-san?”

  


His sister, Kiyoko, Yachi, and Coach Takeda all swivel to look at him. 

  


Tanaka, Noya, and Hinata all scream together: “NEE-SAN?”

  


By now, the gym is deathly quiet.  _ How is it so quiet? This is a gym. _ They were supposed to be helping set it up for the game. 

  


Miwa doesn’t notice the sudden stillness and says, “You all were so polite, I felt rude cutting you off. I actually am not  _ that _ lost. Tobio brought me here. My name is Kageyama Miwa, and I’m his older sister.” She finishes off with a deep bow and quickly rises, “thank you for taking care of him.”

  


Chaos. Absolute chaos.

  


“The King has a sister?”

  


“Aww, they look alike. I can see the resemblance, Tsukki!”

  


“I had the impression that Kageyama was raised by like Japanese volleyball deities. Y’know like the Hirugami family? It’s nice to know he has a normal family.”

  


“Ennoshita, as a friend, I’m telling you to stop watching so many bad 80s feudal Japanese movies.”

  


“How did Tanaka even find her?” 

  


“Wow. She’s really pretty. It makes sense, though. Kageyama seems like the type to get confession notes all the time. Do you think Volleyball Monthly will do a spread about him soon?”

  


Miwa smiles at that. 

  


The team, acting like rabid gossips, crowds around where Miwa stands. Daichi and Sugawara are even swiveling their heads to see the resemblance. He’s still frozen at the entrance, but Hinata pushes him forward. 

  


“I apologize for the interruption. One moment, Tobio was walking next to me explaining where to go, and then, all of a sudden, he sped off. Tanaka-san found me and guided me here. Thank you!”

  


He won’t apologize. The race is important.

  


“Would it be alright if I left my bag and jacket here? I’m just planning on getting some morning exercise by jogging around campus.”

  


Coach Takeda nods and exclaims, “Of course, Kageyama-san! We are hosting a match against the Neighborhood Association if you would like to stay!” 

  


_ What _ . 

  


Miwa smiles and looks at him and raises an eyebrow. The unspoken question is there.  _ Can I watch?  _ Hinata beats him to it. 

  


“GUA! Kageyama-san has to stay! She probably has amazing game sense. I mean, imagine living with Yamayama and not -”

  


“Hinata,” Daichi exclaims, “we don’t even know if Kageyama-san plays!” Daichi looks apologetically at Miwa and bows. 

  


Miwa just smiles and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, “I did. I played the best position, too.”

  


Suga chimes in, “Ah, so, you’re a setter!”

  


Miwa snorts. “Of course not. I said the best position! I was Shiratorizawa’s Middle School ace. I didn’t play in high school, though. There was a rule against long hair.” 

  


His teammates all murmur an  _ ah _ , of understanding. His sister’s hair rests at her waist now. 

  


Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Asahi twirl a strand of his hair. 

  


Miwa continues and sighs, probably reminiscing, “That was a long time ago, though. I’ll gladly stay and watch. You all already have excellent guidance from your coaches.”

  


“Wait, wait, did she just say she was the ace?”

  


“Yamayama, your sister was the ace?”

  


“ _ Shiratorizawa _ ? As in Ushiwaka-Shiratorizawa? As in an alternative universe, would Kageyama be setting to Ushiwaka right now?”

  


“Huh, I can’t imagine Kageyama wearing purple.”

  


“So, Kageyamas are all volleyball stars. That’s a cool family trait. My family just bike rides together.”

  


_ Not really _ , Tobio thinks, papa was somehow the worst player he knew. Mama understood the game and tried talking to him about it, but she got lost in all the terminology. If they ever did watch a professional match, she rooted for the team with the better uniforms. They’ve been rooting for the Schweiden Adlers for a while now. 

  


He looks at Miwa, who is beaming, hearing what his teammates have to say, and their revelations about the Kageyama-lineage. 

  


Coach Ukai claps his hands together, causing everyone to swivel from where Miwa was to face him instead. "Alright, interview time is over. Now, everyone better start helping set up. The Neighborhood Association should be here any minute now. I told them to try every trick they have, so be prepared."

  


Everyone immediately springs into action. 

  


Tanaka grabs his bicep and spins him around. “Kageyama,” he starts, “are you related to Kiyoko?”

  


_ What?  _

  


“No.” 

  


“Not even, like distantly?”

  


He shakes his head. 

  


“If you were, would you give me your blessing?”

  


“Yes. Uh, you are a great senpai.” 

  


Tanaka grasps his chest, where his heart is, moved at his words. 

  


“Alright. Sorry about bringing your older sister here. She looked lost.”

  


“It’s fine. I don’t mind playing with her in the crowd.”

  


Tanaka looks like he might continue apologizing, but he’s interrupted by Hinata. 

  


“YAMAYAMA, TOSS TO ME!”

  


“HOLD ON.”

  


He grabs a blue practice jersey from Yachi and begins to start stretching on the floor. Satisfied, he grabs a ball from Kiyoko and begins to start setting everyone their tosses. High and quick for Hinata. A parabola for Asahi and so on. 

  


Noya cuts off his train of thought with a “Hey, Kageyama-san, do you want to spike, too? Your brother has the best sets!”

  


From her place on the sideline, Miwa looks up and seems surprised. Somehow, she got a spare chair and was playing with Yachi’s hair. Yachi looked equally terrified and dazed. She’s probably giving unsolicited hair advice to his fellow first year.

  


Miwa glances at Coach Ukai, who is on his phone, and instead asks Coach Takeda if it would be allowed. Coach Takeda shakes his head yes about five times and smiles at him. 

  


Miwa takes off her jacket, and Yachi clings to it like a prize. She steps on court and grins. 

  


“Let me tie my hair up. Toss a little farther from the net - it’s higher than I’m used to.”

  


He nods. His sister’s preference was the first he learned by heart, but she doesn’t really need to know that. 

  


She finishes tying her hair up in a ponytail and takes off running. He sends the ball to her. At this moment, it feels like they’ve been transported from Karasuno’s gymnasium to the one Kazuyo-san coached at. Miwa in her ponytail and him with his clumsy form. But that was then; this is now. Some things don’t ever change, though. Miwa still hits the ball with all her might, and there’s a nice  _ smack _ coming from the upper right of the opposite court. She always did like cross shots. 

  


Miwa lands with a huff, her hair flopping down, and grins at him. 

  


He mumbles. “Nice kill.”

  


“Good set, Tobio.”

  


Tanaka, Noya, and Hinata together explode in cheers. 

  


“Wow, I want to dig that!”

  


“A cross-shot? It looked like she was going for a line.”

  


“CAN YOU TEACH ME?”

  


“Maybe after! I don’t want to disrupt more.”

  


They are interrupted by the Neighborhood Association arriving with Coach Ukai roaring out, “You are all late!” 

  


“It’s 11 on the dot.” 

  


"The match  _ starts _ at 11. As in, be here by 10:40, to warm up."

They ignore Coach Ukai and begin changing into their volleyball shoes. 

  


“Please, don’t get mad, you’ll scare the children, but we were actually just trying to stall. Makoto-kun is running late. Like 20 minutes.”

  


Coach Ukai looks ready to begin chain-smoking. 

  


Once again, Noya does the unexpected, “Don’t worry, Takinoue-san! We have an extra Kageyama star player.” He points to Miwa, who just blinks at what Noya says, just as confused as Tobio feels. 

  


The Neighborhood Association team shuffles around, and they all bow to Miwa, who bows back. 

  


“I’m Kageyama Miwa, Tobio’s older sister. I can play if you need an extra player. I am sort of rusty.”

  


“Sure! Makoto-kun will only need like 20 minutes. We can stall with you on our side of the net.”

  


Miwa smiles at the team, and Noya cackles. 

  


“Great! I really wanted to dig her cross-shot.” 

  


Yachi, still holding Miwa’s jacket, hands Miwa a green jersey, and Kiyoko passes the other jerseys to the Neighborhood Association team while they begin warming up. 

  


He sees Miwa begin talking to the team and doesn’t pay more attention to it. Instead, he focuses on what Daichi and Coach Ukai are advising. The team has excellent technical skills and power behind them. The goal is to end the rallies as quickly as possible. 

  


“Every set should be spiked, understood?”

  


Nods everywhere. 

  


“Alright!”

  


They all take their position on the court and let the other team take the first serve. He’s surprised to see Miwa get handed the ball. 

  


Miwa nods at Kiyoko, and she blows the whistle. The match has begun. 

  


Before he can even register what is happening, Miwa is already throwing the spinning ball up in the air, jumps perfectly, and smacks the ball onto the court. No one moves. 

  


_ Did Miwa just get a service ace in?  _

  


The ball is rolling out of the court, and everyone is still just standing there. Daichi blinks. Hinata gasps.

  


Coach Ukai yells, “ _ Why are you all so stiff?”  _

  


_ Right _ . 

  


Yachi turns the scorecard from 0 to 1. 

  


His sister grabs the ball again and waits for Kiyoko’s whistle. She jumps a second before the whistle blows, and the ball lands with a  _ smack _ on the left side of the court. Daichi sprawled on the floor. He missed the ball by inches—another service ace. 

  


0 to 2. 

  


He looks at his sister, but she’s looking past him. Analyzing the court like Kazuyo-san would tell them to. 

  


She waits for the whistle, and again, before it even stops, she’s moving forward and serving the ball. It hits the top of the net but falls onto Karasuno’s side of the court. Noya lunges for it and digs it. 

  


He follows the ball and gets underneath it. Tanaka shouts for the ball, and he sets it towards him. Fast. Perfect for his cross-shot. 

  


At least it would’ve been if it weren’t the middle blockers. 

  


0-3. 

  


“It’s alright. We’ll get the next one!”

  


Miwa is still set to serve, and they need to cut her off. 

  


During all of this, he can’t help the grin on his face. Yes, Miwa is his older sister, who drags him all over Sendai to cute cafes, buys him clothes from different fashion designers, and forces him to do complex Korean skincare routines; she is more than that. Miwa was his first coach, his first teammate, his first rival. She transformed volleyball into something special for him. Over the years, Tobio can’t believe he forgot.

  


Her next serve, Tanaka digs it, Tobio sets it to Hinata, who blasts past the blockers. 

  


Miwa meets his eyes from across the net, and she smiles. Tobio can’t help but grin back. __

  


**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading!!! comments + kudos are cool!


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